


if he comes back, he’s yours

by softtofustew



Series: bird and a plane [2]
Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Fluff and Angst, Jaehyungparkian, M/M, Superhero!Jae, Webcomic Artist!Brian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 07:32:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17320685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softtofustew/pseuds/softtofustew
Summary: webcomic artist brian is running out of ideas. after a significant car accident, he realises that the superhero who (narrowly) saves him might just be an idea. or the superhero!jae and citizen!brian story we all need so i wrote it.





	if he comes back, he’s yours

**Author's Note:**

> a standalone work in the superhero!jae series. hope you enjoy it :)

at this point in life, brian's not sure how many coffees he's consumed in his lifetime - surely too many to count. he knows it's probably an unhealthy count. but he's staring at the blank computer screen before him, pen in hand hovering over the tablet.

he's craving for coffee again. americano, to be exact.

sighing deeply, brian shuts down the computer before stuffing his phone and wallet into the back pocket of his jeans. he doesn't even think twice as he stalks out of the room, doesn't think twice about the wrinkled hoodie he has on, or the chicken-patterned socks he has on. he shuffles out of the room, yanks on a pair of sneakers before darting out of the house.

it's become routine for him, these days. ever since comic conventions and book signings have fizzled away, brian's been holed up in his apartment, racking his head for a brand new idea. to no avail.

sometimes, on his worst days, he has a brunch of cheerios while scrolling through his phone for some good webcomics or flicking through channels for any ideas. boring, boring, boring.

he's not one for writing romance, nor is he one to depict mystery - he's more action and slice of life kind of writer, so perhaps that's why he's been struggling recently. with so much competition out there, his preferred genre of comics has become so typical as of today, it's infuriating.

as he scrambles into his car, he twists the key in the ignition and the car fires up. he sighs, tunes into his favorite radio station. when he pulls out of the driveway, the catchy radio tune resounds throughout the vehicle, followed by a cheery voice. _“gooood morning, folks! it's your fairly local radio host, dj pillie-”_

 _“-and djaaaaaay woonie!”_ a deeper voice adds. brian hums as he steers into the main road. _“welcome to the 11AM morning news segment of talk-talk radio. we bring news of a car crash that has just occurred along main street a couple minutes ago. thankfully, there were no casualties, as our resident superhero_ “psj” _has saved the day. he swooped in just in time to steer the lorry away from a family car. say, wonpil- i mean, dj pillie - what’re your thoughts on our well-known local super superhero?”_

there’s a chuckle before the other adds, “ _well, dj dowoon - sorry, woonie - i think_ psj _is a serious man at work! he’s certainly extraordinary, it’s surprising how he doesn’t have a tv show of his own. i guess that’s partly because he appears at the scene and disappears right after. what a show-stopper!”_

brian stops at a red light, fumbles for the pack of cigs in his pocket. it’s not like he’s a heavy smoker; he only ever does when he’s stressed or thoughtful. at the moment, it’s the latter - his mind is twisting and turning, the gears clicking into place. _hm… superheroes._

it isn’t much of a rarity for superheroes to reside in los angeles - the populated area pretty much thrives with them. even as they evolve over the years, they’re a common sight, whether it be to reduce the crime rates in the city or be it saving innocent residents from unforeseen accidents only predicted by the superheroes themselves. in recent months, two new superheroes had emerged, psj and chero, both whose identities remained relatively secret.

thanks to their secretive lives, not too much is known about the supers. government officials have tried tracking down any traces of their lives, even used radio waves and infrasound to deter them from disappearing into plain sight - to no avail. most of the tv shows are cartoons of made-up supers, and marvel comics seem looked down upon on due to, perhaps, unofficial information about the _real_ lives of supers.

sighing, brian lights a cigarette, places it in between his chapped lips. the stoplight turns green.

the voices of the radio hosts tune in and out of his conscience. “and up next we have the top ten tracks of this week, starting off with day6’s ‘days gone by’!” dj dowoon finishes, followed by a retro track. brian taps his fingers against the wheel in time with the beat as he meanders through the mid-morning traffic. he hums along to the tune as he makes a left.

there’s another stoplight, and brian sighs around the cigarette. he takes a long drag, before releasing it. the taste of tar on his lips is disgusting, but it takes his mind off of the stress pounding in his head. just as the light turns orange, he kicks the engine back to life to get ready to step on the pedal.

then there’s a flash.

“what the-” brian blinks, his vision blurring momentarily. there’s a thump and a yowl of pain beside him. startled, brian casts his gaze at the passenger seat, and oh shit. the flash of white dissipates into a lanky guy sat right in the passenger seat of his vehicle. shit. oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

 _am i hallucinating?_ brian wonders inwardly. _is this a sign of my impending stress?_

but in all due respect, the guy in his seat has a terrible sense of fashion - he’s in a tight, blinding red-and-white suit that definitely shouldn’t be worn by him in the public; it’s probably two sizes too small for him. glasses perch on the tip of his nose, reflecting the sunshine off of the frames. his hair is a damned abomination, brian thinks, a flash of red with silver highlights.

“holy _fuck_ , who are you and what are you doing here?” brian sputters, his eyes still on the red-haired stranger right in his car.

the stranger jumps in his seat. shock is splayed across his expression, as if he himself doesn’t seem to process the situation at hand. “oh, _shit_ , look out!” he screeches, voice cracking as his arm reaches out for the wheel. the cigarette in between brian’s teeth almost falls onto his lap when the stranger makes a grab for the wheel and wrenches it to the right.

the car steers right, heading straight for a boutique on the walkway. brian’s heart is in his throat as the stranger in his car screeches, “brakes!” much to brian’s horror, the car indeed suddenly brakes, halting to a sure and solid stop a mere few inches away from the display window of the haute couture boutique.

right outside brian’s window, a lorry races by, clearly beating the red light. several agitated honks and beeps resound outside. brian puts two and two together, and realises that this stranger has, indeed, just saved him from an imminent car crash. holy…

brian inhales sharply, forgetting about the cig in his lips; he immediately tears it out, coughing violently. the stranger at his passenger seat leans over frantically, clicking brian’s seatbelt unbuckled. “you okay, dude?” the stranger asks, concern lacing his hurried tone. “i’m so sorry, i wasn’t supposed to do that.”

as the coughs ebb away, brian peers up at the guy. his eyes are wide and glittery, a chestnut brown. his glasses are sliding down the crooked slope of his nose. “do what? save me?” brian chuckles dryly. “you’re supposed to be _sorry_ for saving my life?”

“well, not by appearing in your _car_ , that is,” the stranger laughs. carefully, he takes the cigarette away from brian’s slender fingers, before stubbing it in the ashtray on his dashboard. the other hand is placed gently against brian’s broad back, and latter is mildly surprised by how wide the stranger’s hand is, splayed across almost the entire expanse of his back. “you sure you’re okay? you just had, like, the shock of your life.”

“i’m good, just, well…” brian shakes his head slightly. “alive.”

when he looks back at the stranger, his eyes fall onto the logo stitched lopsided on the guy’s top. there’s a chicken in a circle, a cape flying behind it. for a moment brian is sure he’s seen the logo somewhere before. the dj’s words earlier resound in his ears: _he appears at the scene._

realisation dawns upon brian as to whose hand is rubbing comforting circles all over his back. “y-you’re… shit.” his eyes widen. “you’re _chero_! t-the hero with the glasses! you saved everyone from that fire near the bridge a week ago!”

brian’s breaths are erratic as he jerks backwards, drinking in the sight of him. it’s no mistaking - the iconic red-and-white ensemble, the hair, the glasses - how could he have _not_ recognised the guy at first glance? “you just saved my _life_.”

slightly overwhelmed, chero runs a hand through his hair. “well, that’s my duty, young citizen,” he laughs. his grin is genuine, and it makes his eyes crinkle up into crescents, which makes brian a little starstruck - not only is this guy humble, but man is he hella cute.

several seconds pass before chero startles out of his daze. “oh, well, um… i got to ciao before the police get to you. stay safe, mi amigo - and for hell’s sake please don’t smoke! it damages the lungs!” with that said, there’s another flash, one that blinds brian’s vision momentarily - before the hero of the day dissipates into thin air.

stunned, brian stares down at the worn leather of his passenger seat. his forehead wrinkles at the sight of something shiny on the fabric. carefully, he leans down to pluck it up. he lifts it to his eyes to inspect it closely. it’s an earring - a cross earring, more to be exact. brian’s quite sure he doesn’t own one of this design, which can only mean that…

oh, gosh.

by the time the police arrive at the scene, brian’s pocketed the earring safely in his jeans and regained his composure. he retells the tale to the police, mentioning chero and his disappearance, doesn’t mention the earring. after all, finders keepers, or so brian supposes the saying goes. when the police are gone and the news is airing over the radio, brian reverses his car out of the walkway and continues on his way to the coffee shop - but with a lighter air, a spring of his steps as he exits the car and strides over to the entrance.

on the way there, he dumps the pack of cigarettes into the trash can peeking out of an alleyway.

 

**—**

 

on the day that brian finally lands on an idea, he's in his office, scrawling miscellaneous title ideas across the rough paper of his notebook. as he scribbled a flower doodle along the margins of the page, the doorbell rings. the sound reverberates throughout his house.

frowning, brian looks at his watch. it's nearing nine at night, so who can it be? for a moment, his heart pounds against his chest, wondering if it's one of those psycho fans, like one he'd met at a comic convention a few months back.

brushing the thoughts off of his head, brian scrambles to his feet and shuffles downstairs. as he pads down the hallway, the doorbell is rung again, twice this time. “alright! coming!” brian hollers. “i’m on the way, just hold your ho-”

“-rses?” the door is wrenched open, revealing a tall guy with a hoodie thrown over his head. sunglasses are perched on his nose. a mask is pulled up until his nose.

brian's first thought is _murderer_ , or _thief_ , and he immediately opens his mouth to scream. however, the guy beats him to it, bringing a hand up to cup over brian's mouth. “don't scream at me, dude,” he hisses.

something about the stranger's velvety voice strikes something in brian's head. “ _chero_?” brian blurts out, voice muffled by the hand over his lips.

with his other hand, chero plucks his sunglasses off of his face, revealing… his glasses underneath them. brian suddenly finds this kinda ridiculous, borderline cute. the eyes revealed are wide and hold that same glimmer as they had only two days ago. he yanks the mask down to his chin. “inside. now.”

dazed, brian leads him inside before locking the front door. chero peels his hand off of brian's mouth and folds his arms across his chest. “where is it?”

“where is what?” brian asks, puzzled.

chero rolls his eyes dramatically, “you know _what_ , my earring,” he retorts. with that, he tilts his head to reveal his pierced left earlobe. “the cross earring. i know i left it in your car.”

after a few indescribably awkward seconds, the remembrance of the earring cuts through his thoughts. “oh, yeah. you dropped it, i think,” brian replies slowly. he ushers chero down the hallway, all the while trying to maintain his composure - he's been thinking about chero and the incident for the past two days. all he can think about are the wide hand and smooth voice and glittery eyes. the nearer he gets to his office room slash bedroom, the faster his heart beats against his chest.

to be frank, brian's not exactly proud of the clutter of his room. papers and notebooks pile up on the scrubbed pine desk facing the doorway. books are crammed into the bookshelves all along one wall of his room. his bed is unmade, there's clothes on the floor - brian rushes in to kick a pair of boxers under his bed. he'll probably forget about it later, but for now that's not his worry.

chero shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. in casual clothes, he looks different, younger - he's dressed down into a plain tee, skinny jeans ripped at the knees. grey-socked feet shuffle along the wood-planked floor as he walks into the room. “so… where is it?”

“yeah, it's in my drawer. just give me a second.” brian walks around to his desk and seats himself down on his roller chair. he tears open the first drawer, rifling around the papers and notes he has stored there. he'd kept the earring in a tiny box somewhere here… 

“you draw or something?” chero quizzes nonchalantly, picking up one of the papers on brian's desk and examining it. it's brian's scribble of a monster when he was experimenting with horror a while back - a grizzly creature with four arms and sharp fangs. “looks pretty gruesome.”

brian peers up to catch the ghost of a grin on chero's full lips. he ignores the racing of his heart. “wait till it's in colour, dude. gruesome will be an understatement.”

at this, chero lets out a half-breathy, half-laughing sort of chuckle. clearly amused, he sets the paper down onto the table, letting his hand linger there for a moment. as brian resumes to rifling through his drawers (he’s pretty sure it’s this drawer… he thinks), the hero begins wandering along the bookshelves lining his wall. brian sneaks a glance at the other, his frame outlined by the dim light shining down from overhead.

“wait… _from: miscellaneous_ ?” chero delicately plucks a book off of the shelf, taking a good look at the front cover. surprised at the name that rolls off of his tongue, brian looks up. chero exchanges glances from the book cover to brian. “you’re _kang younghyun_ ? _the_ writer of _this_ guy?”

his lips are parted into an ‘o’ shape, and the soft light must be doing things to him, because he looks so innocent, as if caught red-handed… except, well, it’s brian who’s caught red-handed. not really, but. whatever, you get it. “well, yeah. though my english name’s brian.”

chero blinks in awe. “this is, like, my favourite webcomic of all time. well, besides _winter woods,_ but god. can i take a look at it?” he gushes. his cheeks are flushed as he stares at brian with googly eyes, and it’s pretty ironic, to be real - how the writer should be in awe of the superhero, but the superhero is in awe of the writer. It’s pretty overwhelming, honestly.

“go ahead.” brian gathers up his most casual voice, but it’s more of a strangled whine. nevertheless, chero grins before flicking through the hard copy of his best-selling webcomic. it had been a blast, honestly. brian hadn’t expected so much recognition and praise for a simple webcomic he’d created on a napkin at a ramen restaurant. if it weren’t for a young stranger with a shaved head telling him he should make it into a comic, he would’ve scrapped the napkin after slurping up his soup.

the story goes like this: it’s a comic depicting a slice of life. or moreso, a slice of brian’s life. though the narrator remains anonymous for the whole time period, brian likes to think that it’s _him_ reading the narrating words aloud for all to hear, of the story of a queer boy growing up in korea, before moving to toronto to study. frankly, the storyline is a little expecting, but what he’s been given the most praise for isn’t the characters, not the colour scheme, nor is it the drawing style.

it’s the words.

brian’s always had his way around words, he supposes. from little memos he writes to encourage himself to anonymous letters he placed under the tables of those who took the greatest care of him in school and in his previous workplace (he’d been a part of an editing team of an online magazine; he’d left for bigger dreams), brian’s heart was - has - always full of words to scribble on paper - it just made sense to do so.

chero lets out a low whistle as he flips through the pages. “i’ll have you know that i was disappointed that there wasn’t a season six, but damn. props to you, dude. i love your work, seriously,” he compliments. brian bashfully hides his grin by rummaging through the second drawer.

“thanks,” brian mumbles.

chero closes the book and slots it back into the shelf. “so? my earring?” he perks up with earnest. oh, shit.

“yeah, just… give me a moment,” brian mutters. he practically rips the last drawer open. where is that damned box? he swears he placed it in the top drawer ever since he’d come home after he’d driven back home from the coffee shop. _shit_.

out of the corner of his eye, brian catches chero biting down on his lower lip. “you sure it’s in there?” chero pipes up nervously. he wrings his hands together.

“of course it is.” at this point, brian’s not exactly sure whether he’s reassuring the superhero, or himself. he leans back against his roller chair, scrutinising every second of that day ever since he came home from the coffee shop. he’d put the cup down in the kitchen, found a box to put the earring into, placed it on his desk, thought about the top drawer…

he takes a look at his desk, strewn with papers and notebooks. sighing deeply, he cards a hand through his dishevelled hair. “just… give me a moment,” he mumbles. he begins digging around, stacking up his papers and magazine cuttings into piles. before him, chero watches carefully, hands in his pockets as brian rummages through the mess on his table.

 _dammit, i_ knew _i shouldn’t have skipped spring cleaning_ , brian thinks. he peels off the notebook of potential comic titles and finds a box there. how it ended up there is anyone’s guess. “got it!” brian yells triumphantly, startling the hero.

chero breathes a shaky sigh of relief. “thanks, i can’t imagine what it’d be like if i lost it-”

“-why didn’t you just appear in here to get it, though?” brian interrupts. he clutches onto the box tightly in a vice grip. “why all the hassle? aren’t you supers supposed to be secretive about lurking around and stuff?” the more questions he asks, the more that form in his mind. now that he thinks about it, chero showing up like this seems iffy.

chero chuckles. “chillax, bro. you sound like my third-year lecturer,” he teases lightly. He steps forward, a grin plastered across his face. “i’ll have you know that _that_ ,” he nods towards the box in brian’s hand, “is how i get around. poof in, poof out. the second i poofed out that day after saving you? i landed into the lost region. wait, shit.” he frowns. “shouldn’t have said that.”

brian’s eyes widen. “the lost region?”

“it’s like this place where supers go if they lose their navigating devi- wait, fuck.” chero blushes deeply. brian resists the urge to pinch the other’s pink cheeks. “also shouldn’t have said that.”

the more brian engages with this super, the more brian realises how undeniably spontaneous he is. he’s just beginning to notice the other’s eyes blinking madly at him, those glittery, show-stopping eyes. “ _shouldn’t have said that_? why? is that like, some secret super code?”

“no, it’s, like, part of the rules we learn in the scho-” chero stops himself before he can continue. “rambling habit. sorry.”

a plan formulates in brian’s mind. a slow smile finds its way across his cheeks as he subtly pockets the box in his sweatpants. “what does chero stand for, chero?”

chero places his hands on his hips, and it’s a hilarious sight, really. “i’m not falling for that, mr brian kang younghyun. just because it’s the simplest combination of chicken and a hero doesn’t mean i have to tell you-” he stops short. “wait.”

at this point in time, brian’s slapping his knee as he doubles over in laughter. never has he come into such close contact with a hero, but not just any superhero who’s saved his ass from breaking his head - a superhero who can’t stop his mouth running miles a minute. as his laughter subsides, brian shakes his head at the other. “seriously? chicken and hero? what were you thinking?”

“well, jae’s a very substantial korean name, so.” he shrugs his shoulders. a moment passes. another. “oh, _god_ , i wish i had my time-reversal device with me right now.” he makes a gesture of knocking his head against the bookshelf in agony, but brian’s too busy mulling over the one-syllable name to notice. _jae_.

smiling, brian digs a hand into the pocket of his sweatpants. “rambler?”

jae purses his lips together and instead of replying, he nods. brian can’t help but laugh.

“i think i could get the whole story out of you with no sweat,” brian teases playfully, which only makes jae flush redder. the colour splotches across his cheeks prettily, and brian can’t help but stare a little longer at him. jae’s just sort of radiant, hero and all.

“god forbid,” jae snorts. for someone who’s just spat out a handful of supposedly top-secret information, he looks pretty unbothered, grinning cheekily with the corners of his eyes crinkling together. the plan is now in shape, now it’s only time for the next step: subtle execution.

in what he hopes is more seductive than cringey, brian leans against his desk (he stumbles on the edge of the carpet but covers it up just in time as a fancy sidestep). “i have a proposition, mr chero.”

the corner of jae’s lips curls into a knowing smirk. “which is?”

with as much confidence as he can muster, brian clears his throat. “you’re invested in my works; i’m invested in your works. how about you tell me more about your hero life, and i convert it into a work of my own? i’ve… needed an idea for a new series for a while, and the idea of supers has been bugging at me recently. a win-win situation, really,” brian offers. he throws in his winning grin, knowing that he’s showing off his dimples for extra measure. simply for extra measure.

jae laughs nervously. “seriously?”

“seriously. unless there’s some rule against it?”

the hero shakes his head, before valiantly stepping up to brian. our hero flicks a stray hair of our fellow citizen’s hair behind his ear, his other hand reaching around to dig into the pocket of the citizen’s sweatpants. there’s the touch of the velvety box, a flick of it, before our hero snatches up the earring and daringly hooks it back into his ear with a smirk. “what’s some risk in saving people’s lives without a little tradition of fun with it?” he winks.

our citizen is, unsurprisingly, left stunned and speechless.

“i’ll think about it, kang,” is all our hero says before disappearing before our citizen’s eyes, leaving him with a stuttering heartbeat and a dumbfounded look on his face.

 

**—**

 

**_Chero: Superhero Unlicensed?_ **

Two days ago, at around 11:09AM down main street,  _Brian Kang_ , beloved webcomic artist of  _from: miscellaneous_ was saved from the driver of a  _Superstore Goods_ lorry running the red light. Much praise has been given to local superhero  _Chero_ , known for his quick wittiness when handling crime and for his perky glasses, but as the hours tick by, citizens begin criticizing the hero’s work of the week.

Following yesterday’s newspaper report of the situation, here’s an extract from  _The Daily Dirt_ : _With his instinctive nature, Chero appeared in the passenger seat of Kang’s car and steered the wheel to the right, before yelling for the car to brake before_ _Haute Holsters_ _, a haute couture boutique down Main Street. It was reported by Kang that Chero disappeared shortly after._

Criticism has begun arising as of late evening yesterday. Superhero analyst  _Devron Lim_ has commented, “Previous superheroes have all stopped the lorry, rather than appearing in the victim’s car, let alone steer it onto the walkway and almost crashing into the boutique. That method could have potentially amounted to double or triple the possible casualties.”

After his criticism has been brought forward, many have begun nitpicking at Chero’s decisions in handling with the car crash. Another critic, a fellow at the scene, Park Sungjin, shook his head as he commented, “An amateur superhero, really. He still needs a lot of training”, before walking away. When we tried to follow this fellow and ask him to elaborate on what he meant by ‘training’, Park had already disappeared elsewhere.

With so many supers having evolved in  _Los Angeles_ , it’s clear that Chero is indeed one of the amateurs with much to learn. So really, is Chero a superhero, or just out to create more havoc for Los Angeles? Read more about Chero’s appearances _ here. _

 

— 

 

as brian places a magnet over the newspaper clipping onto the fridge door, there’s a mighty flash sparking behind him out of the corner of his eye. though he’s a little startled, he smothers it up with a grin as he swivels around. jae’s staring at him, at the newspaper clipping on the fridge door. “what’s _that_?” he asks with an accusatory tone.

when jae stomps over to inspect the contents of the newspaper cutting, brian blows a raspberry. “well, hello to you too, jae. or should i still stick with chero-”

“-what the fuck?” jae sputters, reaching out to snatch the newspaper cutting off of the fridge door. he laughs dryly. “superhero _unlicensed_? well, i’ll have them know that i just fucking saved a lady’s cat from the tree. she didn’t even have to call the goddamn firefighters!” jae spits, about to tear up the paper when brian stops him.

“yo, dude,” brian yanks it back. “have you thought about it?”

sighing, jae reaches a hand up to rub his temples. “well, yeah, duh. but what’s the point in writing a webcomic about supers when i’m supposedly the most amateur superhero out here in L.A.? that’s like giving a five-star review on a day-old packet of fries you found in the trash can,” he points out, still frowning.

brian leans against his fridge door to look at the hero. the ends of his sleeves are frayed, sweat clinging to his forehead. “you saved a _cat_ just now? you look like you went through war. well, was it a wild cat, then?”

“technically, i saved the cat, _then_ i saved this kid about to drown somewhere in hawaii,” jae shrugs. “most of the ones on call in hawaii took leave today, so some of us had to fill in. double the work, double the sweat.”

to be frank, brian’s impressed. he shows it on his face, just to encourage jae a little. “think of it, man. i don’t mean to brag, but i’m pretty well-known for my words and webcomics. my fans have been dying for a new series recently, since it’s been a year after i finished _from: miscellaneous_ . writing a story about the misadventures of a misunderstood superhero? people will think differently. people will begin wondering, what _are_ the lives of supers, really? people tend to ignore your hardships and whatnot; this is the perfect opportunity to prove them wrong.

“and even if they don’t believe that i’m getting this from a real super,” brian adds, pausing for a hot second, “it’ll garner the attention drawn towards how citizens feel towards you, right?”

seemingly blown away, jae leans against the kitchen counter. he folds his arms across his chest, blinking those glittering eyes at him. “let me tell you, kang. i’m not one to be swayed by words. but consider yourself sold.” he reaches over to pat brian’s shoulder, that warm palm against the thin fabric of his duck-printed tee shirt. “duty calls. i’ll see you tomorrow.”

brian catches the ruby centerpiece of the cross earring blinking madly, just as the hero before his eyes dissipates into thin air. the second he’s gone, brian pumps a fist into the air. _gotcha where i want ya, chero,_ brian thinks triumphantly to himself. now, to treat himself to some good ‘ol ramen in this sizzling californian heat.

 

— 

 

once brian’s got a hold of something, or someone, he’s known for finding it hard to let them go. evidence: his dog, rice, who died when brian was sixteen and away at a summer camp (he came back with his first kiss and an unexpected wave of sadness for the next three weeks), and his first boyfriend at the age of twenty-three (who he’d grown attached too, simply because _no one_ fell in love with brian kang and stayed with them for a year before promptly cheating on him. major ouch.)

with that said, brian’s adamant to keep jae - chero, whatever - right under his thumb. he spends that night sketching up a pop art title screaming _the misadventures of a superhero_ on his computer, skimming through colour schemes and fonts for the most eye-catching galore. by the time he’s done, he’s bulldozed through three coffees and has pulled through an all-nighter, but by god has he missed this.

the feel of a deadline of some sort. when he was still working on _from: miscellaneous_ , it’d been hours and hours of backdrop hunting and character study and script writing (well, he _could’ve_ hired some helpers, but that wouldn’t do, would it? because one, he’s kinda bossy when it comes to his works, and two, he’s not willing to fork out his money to pay actual wages; that’s a whole hassle on its own.) just to meet that deadline of a friday every week. and in between each season, he never gave himself more than a week’s hiatus - he’d come back with a fierce plot to keep the story moving, keep his readers reading.

although, this time, there isn’t really a deadline, is there? well, not exactly. more of a deadline for him to be able to impress jae enough to let him stay. by the time the sun’s peeking out from behind the horizon, brian’s cracking his knuckles to keep himself awake. he hasn’t burnt the midnight oil in forever, and damn does he miss sleep already.

just as he’s about to shut his computer down and snooze right there and then on his desk, there’s a bright flash. it’s the third time already, and brian’s not even surprised at this point in time anymore. “woah. someone looks beat.”

brian peers up. instead of the horrendous red-and-white outfit, jae’s flanked in a graphic tee and dark grey skinny jeans, a snapback atop his red-dyed hair. the blip blinking on his cross earring slowly ebbs away. for a moment, he stares at jae, not knowing what exactly to say. “well. kinda. but i’m good.”

“huh,” jae hums. he allows himself to walk around the desk to situate himself beside brian. he leans over brian’s shoulder, and brian begins internally panicking because one. he didn’t shower last night (again). two. jae smells seriously good, like some baby lavender scent instead of the manly axe spray he’d been expecting from the guy. but given the guy’s soft smile amongst those sharp features, brian realises he shouldn’t have been surprised in the first place.

“woah. is that the title?” jae lands a pointer finger against the screen.

“well, yeah. i’m not sure if the red and white colour scheme gave it away too much.”

“no, no. don’t worry,” jae grins down at brian in an almost affectionate manner, and there’s something brewing in the latter’s chest that makes brian want to stomp it down almost instantly. “actually, it’s not much of a secret, seriously. we just love living secret lives; there’s just an air of mystery to us, you know? ‘s a tradition for us.”

the artists runs a hand through his greasy hair. god, he should’ve showered. and he probably should’ve shaved too; there’s definitely a five o’clock shadow over his chin right now. not exactly the best impression on the hero that’s in awe of his work.“seriously? why though?”

“it’s funny reading about ourselves and about the government tryna hack some way into our systems,” jae blabbers. he doesn’t seem to mind too much about spilling details here and there anymore, brian supposes. “how do you… how do you know about stuff in the human world, then?” brian swivels his chair around to face jae, who’s leaning against the windowsill behind brian’s desk.

jae chuckles. “and i’ll answer that with a question: who’s the park sungjin mentioned in that newspaper yesterday?” he quizzes.

park sungjin. psj- “ _-oh_.”

the hero quirks an eyebrow mischievously, before bursting into a fit of giggles. “sungjin’s my mentor. which is kinda irritating, given that i’m technically older than him. imagine his fury when he saw me save you like that. you can say i kinda panicked when you came onto my navigator, because i was kinda in the middle of baking brownies for my friend.”

“so you _do_ live in the real world?” brian rummages around in his second drawer for his notebook and a pen. he’s gonna need some details for his character, a background check. he’s barely starting, but boy is he already going places. when he looks back up, jae’s nodding his head knowingly at him.

“yeah we do. that’s why i’m dressed like this,” he gestures towards his casual clothes.

“understandable.” as brian scribbles the last couple of details onto his notebook, he clicks the ballpoint pen against his table; an annoying habit, a habit he can’t break nonetheless. “have you eaten breakfast yet?”

jae furrows his eyebrows together. “no. why?”

brian grins, scrambling to his feet. he’ll jam one of his caps on to hide the grease in his hair, and probably change out of this day-old gudetama graphic tee, but that’s okay. “lemme take ya to the best breakfast diner there is out here in the city,” brian proclaims, waving the notebook and pen in his hand at jae. the hero remains amused.

 

**—**

 

and brian’s great at keeping people right where he wants them for a while. most mornings begin with jae hovering over the artist back in the bedroom, with brian scrounging around for details to give depth to his character, with jae complimenting brian’s artwork and little details he has drawn onto the superhero character. in brian’s story, there’s a double life of a clumsy university student juggling political science and a part-time job at mcdonald’s (of course, penned as jdonald’s instead in the webcomic).

student by day, superhero by night.

most afternoons, jae tags along with brian along the streets when brian heads out to capture the city skylines for backdrop research. as a fanatic, jae points out the photos the other has taken, asks about each one (“why’d you take a picture of the sky here, why not there?” or “what’s so appealing about a rubbish bin?”) and sometimes they rest on a park bench, sipping cool lemonade under the scorching sunshine.

some days, jae’s earring will blip rapidly, and he’ll dart into the nearest alley and, well. disappear. but brian knows that duty calls sometimes, and he’ll take jae’s smoothie from him (no milk, he’s lactose-intolerant) and watch the hero slink away from the public and switch to his superhero persona.

most evenings, brian either grabs a takeaway for two, or cooks up a huge portion. he’ll put some in the fridge, pack some extra just in case. most nights are spent over the tablet, sketching the layout, the backdrop, the characters, or over the keyboard, typing out the script for the comic.

by around ten or eleven, jae will pop by. sometimes he’s showered, sometimes he hasn’t. on those days that he hasn’t, there’s a twisting in brian’s gut every time jae strides out of his bathroom, his towel in his hand, hair dripping droplets all over the floor. it probably ruins the wooden floor, but brian’s sometimes too enamoured to really care that much.

he tries to ignore it, instead taking his time to ask jae more questions - people he’s met in the past, school for supers, mentoring, friends he’s made. down to the last detail. and jae takes his time to answer, making sure his replies are full and complete. (“that’s okay, right?” “yeah, totally.”) most midnights, jae ruffles brian’s already mess hair, whispers a _good night!_ and dissipates into thin air.

truth be told, brian misses this. misses the air of stressing over whether character’s nose is crooked enough or not, or whether the script is too bland, or whether the green of the grass is just right or not. truth be told, he misses a routine. having one is perfect. having a routine with a superhero? even better.

and besides, jae’s a fun person to hang around. brian’s been living alone ever since he graduated art school at twenty-three, so there’s a sort of comfort being around someone in the day and the night, only a few hours of missing the other in between. but as the days go by and jae appears lesser and lesser, brian feels slightly empty inside. he’ll be whipping up ramen and suddenly remembering jae has a meeting that evening, or he’ll be at the smoothie store and accidentally ordering two drinks.

in this way, three months fly by with preparations and in-depth character analysis. one night, he’s pondering over the rising action of the comic’s storyline when there’s a flash before him. he glances up, grinning at jae… who’s in chicken-patterned pj’s. a duffel bag is slung over one shoulder.

brian’s smile fades away. “what’s going on?”

the hero chuckles, carding a hand through his hair. his hair’s fluffy and most of it drapes over jae’s eyes. “don’t be so scared, dude. you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he teases jokingly. “i was thinking if i could sleep over tonight? i’ve got somewhere i wanna take you tomorrow. y’know, you said you’ve been kinda stuck at that one fight scene-”

“-with the jewel thief, right?-”

“-yeah,” jae confirms, nodding furiously. “navigator tells me i’ve got an appointment with mister mugger tomorrow morning at around nine when it’s pouring cats and dogs. no sweat, seriously. you’ll just be there and watch me and take notes or something,” he adds. if brian’s brain is addling with him, he’d assume that there’s a glimmer of hope in the other’s eyes.

brian’s been with jae on a couple of trips, actually. only the minor incidents, like a biker about to get run over by a car or a machine gone haywire at a chocolate factory open to the public. grinning, brian nods his head in agreement. “sure. it’ll be great insight, actually. um.” he scans his office room slash bedroom for a moment. “you can take the bed, i think i have a yoga mat in the wardrobe-”

“-how about we both take the bed? it’s a queen size, isn’t it?” jae asks innocently, blinking those glittering eyes at brian.

brian almost drops the pen in his hand. his head spins with a thousand different possibilities, but he pushes them all to the back of his mind as he clears his throat somewhat nonchalantly. “yeah! sure. totally. just… help yourself.”

“that’s great! i’m gonna go and brush my teeth first. you should sleep soon, too!” jae rummages around in his duffel bag that he’s set onto the floor, retrieves his toiletries kit and flashes brian one last smile before traipsing into the bathroom. once the door is shut, brian slams the pen onto the table and hurriedly scrambles to his feet.

okay, _okay…_ brian can do this. it’s no joke that he’s begun to develop feelings for the hero in this space of time. three months of hanging out with a hero in a horrendous colour scheme of an outfit and show-stopping looks does do something to a normal, mortal human being; brian can’t deny just. it’s just that now he’s gonna be sharing the same bed as him, and he’s never done this before…

when was the last time brian was in the same bed as someone? probably his roommate that time back in university when the ceiling was leaking?

okay, _okay_.

after a couple of arduous pondering, brian stops in his tracks. shit. he needs to get changed. he’s not going to be side-by-side a hero in the most adorable patterned pj’s ever in a tee he hasn’t changed out of in perhaps three days, or more. he practically rips his top dresser drawer open in search of a half-decent shirt - the superman one will do. he’ll stay in these sweatpants. usually, he goes to bed pantless, but… certainly not this time.

just as brian’s reaching over his desk to shut down the software system, the door to the bathroom creaks open again. jae shuffles out, wiping his face with a hand towel - shirtless.

brian probably lets out something between a choke and a groan; it sounds absolutely weird, and jae catches it, and he looks up. there’s something glinting in his eyes as he scans brian’s outfit. “oh, you changed your shirt!” he pipes up.

the writer nods slowly. “and you changed your… uh.” he scratches the nape of his neck, words too awkward to force out of his throat.

as if he hadn’t realised it himself, jae glimpses down. “oh, yeah, that,” he chuckles, “i usually sleep without a shirt on. hope it doesn’t bother you,” he adds, shoving his hand towel, shirt, and kit back into one of the compartments in his bag. he flashes a grin before plopping himself down onto brian’s bed. “oof, this is comfy.”

“make yourself at home,” brian chokes out, his voice barely audible. he pads over to the switch and flicks the lights off. the summer heat has drizzled into a cool night, made cooler with the air-conditioning set at a low temperature. with his heart in his throat, brian shifts the bedsheets before clambering into the bed. he double checks to make sure that he’s at least a good few inches away from jae. “you okay?”

“mmhm.” in the dark, brian’s eyes take some time to adjust to the low light streaming through the cracks in his blinds. but jae’s eyes are still glistening, bright on their own accord when brian shifts around so he’s facing the hero. jae cracks a silly grin, cheeks full. “thanks for letting me crash here, by the way.”

“it’s no problem, really,” brian mumbles. his eyes stay on jae’s eyes for as long as possible; he doesn’t want to seem like a creep checking out jae’s lanky figure and long torso and pale skin and the sinewy muscles over his arms. (well, he did. for a split second only. for research purposes, he reminds himself, research for his webcomic.)

lethargy sinks into his bones, but he doesn’t want to sleep just yet. “jae?”

“yeah?”

brian gulps. “what really made you stick around all this time? it’s not like anyone pokes into your work anymore,” he questions, tone careful so as not to hurt any feelings. the other simply blinks, before a slow grin finds its way upon jae’s dry lips.

“well, you started the comic, it’s not like i can just let you stop halfway through, right? i still needa stick around, anyways-”

“-you’re lying,” brian interrupts, because he watches jae’s eyes carefully, how his bright pupils dart away from brian’s face when the answer spills from his lips.

for a moment it’s silent, and brian’s suddenly so afraid of opening his mouth to speak, but _thankfully_ jae beats him to it. “took you three months to point that out,” he mutters, before shifting even closer. brian doesn’t dare to move an inch, not even when their foreheads press against each other and their noses graze each other. “i’m a saint for waiting for three months, you know?”

there’s a hint of mischief in his voice, and brian swallows his nerves, ever bit of it - hook, line. sinks into the moment. “y-yeah,” he stutters, and that’s all it takes for jae to lean over and kiss the life out of brian. well… figuratively speaking, but brian’s not lying when he says he feels like he’s swimming in his mind, heart on the verge of bursting into a thousand emotions as jae draws him in, hand against the back of his neck. hand warm, fingers splayed across the skin there, wrapped around his neck.

it’s been a while since brian’s kissed someone, _really_ kissed someone - he awkwardly fumbles for jae’s cheeks as he leans into the other. the warmth of lips and tongue stirs a twisting in brian’s gut, something he tries to suppress even when jae hooks one leg around brian’s hip. he turns them over slowly, accidentally kicking brian’s shin.

brian howls in pain, leaving jae in a fit of giggles as one hand reaches out to smoothen the skin there. “s-sorry,” he manages in between laughter. he leans down to kiss brian’s lips sorry. _forgiven_.

for a couple of seconds, brian wonders why he can’t feel skin against skin, but it’s then that he realises jae’s floating over him, hovering in mid-air. there’s something so daunting about seeing jae like this, floating over him. he can see the milky collarbones and the little muscle wrapped around the other’s arms, and brian’s heart swells. “jae…”

“it’s _chero_ to you, mister,” jae waggles a finger at him playfully. brian huffs and drags jae in, who thumps back onto his body unceremoniously - brian doesn’t complain this time, instead pressing wet kisses down jae’s cheek, jae’s neck, jae’s collarbones. when he begins sucking the skin near jae’s right pectoral, he feels the other’s chest heaving for breath. “bri…”

there’s a hint of hesitance laced in the other’s voice. brian pulls back. maybe this is too overwhelming. maybe jae doesn’t like this. he purses his lips together. “sorry…”

“maybe tomorrow?” jae pecks the other lightly on the cheek, and instantly brian is on fire again. “sorry, just… this is great, better than great. it’s just that i need to wake up early tomorrow, and i don’t really want to feel like i’ve lost my ass or something.”

the implication of his words sends brian blushing madly. “lost your ass?”

“i can literally feel you against my thigh, you don’t have to hide it,” jae taunts, smirking. before brian can utter a word of protest, however, jae kisses brian once again. “good night, bri baby,” he whispers. he lingers on brian’s side, an arm wrapped around his waist.

 

—

 

brian jolts awake from a nightmare the next morning. he startles, eyes blown wide as he lies there on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. sweat clings to his forehead, rolling down the sides of his face. in a hurry, he tilts his head to the right, just to be sure that jae is still there - all pale skin and warm breath. his arm is still around brian’s hip, fingers splayed across the little skin between his shirt and the waistband of his pants.

he releases a shaky sigh, but the flickering scenes of the dream are still firmly ingrained in his mind. every second of it felt so real: the gunshot, the screaming, the blood.

“bri?” jae mumbles, his heart-shaped lips dry and parting to form the other’s name. brian shuffles around to face the hero, his hair a tumble of a mess against his pillowcase, eyes bleary as they struggle to open. “you okay?”

“y-yeah,” brian mutters. _stop, what’re you doing- no!_ he shakes the thoughts out of his mind. “good morning.”

“morning to you too, bri baby,” jae chuckles, leaning in to press a chaste kiss on the stubble on brian’s chin, flustering him. “now rise and shine, we’ve got a mugger to catch.” almost as if in an instance, jae flings the sheets away with a snap of his fingers. the fabric flies straight out and away from brian’s body, leaving him shivering as his bedsheets lie in a heap on the wooden floors.

brian chatters his teeth together as he rolls himself up into a ball. “a warning would’ve been nice!”

the hero bursts into laughter, brushing the sweat away from brian’s forehead. “you little baby, you’re sweating under all those blankets. i’ll let you stretch out your limbs first, but i’m using the bathroom first.” he scrambles to his feet before turning on his heel and striding off into the bathroom. brian doesn’t make a move to correct the other - he doesn’t want the nightmare to be as real as his mind makes it so.

 

—

 

rain pours in a torrent as jae and brian stroll down the walkway, umbrella over them. the fabric of jae’s shirt swishes against his own from the close proximity, the two of them huddling close under the relatively small umbrella - not like brian’s complaining, anyways.

“there’s a dunkin’ donuts there,” jae points out, and indeed, the shop is brightly lit, lights throwing shadows against the pavement of pools of rainwater. “you can totally get a perfect view of the action-packed scene here.”

their boots squelch noisily as they stomp over little puddles of water streaked across the pavement. to be frank, the heavy rain blockades any clear view of even the aisle of stores on the opposite side of the road. the odd car or two whizzes by along this street, sending streaks of water splashing over the walkways. (brian had narrowly missed getting sprayed by water, jae throwing the water straight down instead of splaying outwards at the both of them.)

the nightmare, though slowly and surely being tucked away into the back of brian’s mind, still creeps upon him like a ghost over its own casket. “you sure you’ll be alright?” brian asks hesitantly.

jae scoffs, as if brian had grazed his pride. “why wouldn’t i be? it’s the simplest case out of the lot, mi amigo. i’ll have you know i practically stopped world war three happening over in north korea, like, a year ago. this is a piece of cake, hon,” he chuckles, flicking brian’s nose. his eyes glimmering even under the darkness of the gloomy summer morning.

“whatever you say,” brian mutters as he shoves the glass door open. the aroma of coffee and donuts wafts in the air, sending a tingle down his spine. the hero catches his pleasant expression on his face at the instant smell of baked goods permeating the air.

“you’re so daft,” jae comments, jabbing the other’s side playfully. “now go on and make yourself comfy. get some popcorn if you need to.” he throws a playful wink, which only flusters brian more and makes him flush the colour of jae’s dyed hair.

the shop is empty, and even the cashier looks bored, only peering up at him when brian clears his throat twice. brian settles himself into a window seat, overlooking the bus stop from yesterday as he munches on a strawberry-jam filled donut. there, an elderly lady is sat at the bench alone. the rain falls, pitter patter, pitter patter.

_pitter patter, pitter patter._

flashes from his nightmare hang over him like a mist. brian tries hard to focus on the lady, the man approaching the bus stop from the left like a theatrical play. act one, scene one. stage left, enter the man in a black overcoat and black umbrella, cap pulled surreptitiously down past his eyes. stage right, enter the superhero, red-and-white ensemble flapping away in the wind.

everything is suddenly a superhero comic book from where brian’s sat, the kind brian read when he was younger, a little boy marvelling over the cleverly-drawn characters and witty banters - suddenly everything is intricately drawn, the sounds of the rain shown by the little letters of pitter patter against the ground, the boxed panels drawn neatly to display the scene revealing before brian’s eyes, before the citizen’s eyes.

but our fellow citizen sees it before our dearest hero does: the flicker of light that falls on silver peeking out of our dastardly villain’s coat pocket. our citizen gasps, the flashes of his nightmare coming in clear moving images now. _the gunshot, the screaming, the blood._ our citizen makes a move now, dropping the donut, sending it clattering to the floor, and _splat_ it lands as footsteps stomp out of the cafe and out into the pouring rain.

a speech bubble forms over our citizen’s head. _stop right there!_

the next panel shows all three of them turning heads as our dauntless citizen leaps before a befuddled superhero. the speech bubble is spiky, an exclamation. _don’t hurt either one of them, you fucker!_

the villain has a look of disgust, the lady quivering in trepidation as she hides in a corner. _what did you just call me?_ the speech bubble reads.

_you know what i said! stop!_

chero, the superhero, urges our citizen back into the store, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him behind his own self. _brian, what do you think you’re_ doing _?_ he screeches. neither notices the gun that our villain reveals. the next panel shows a close-up of the gun pointed at chero’s forehead.

 _if i were you, i’d back off right now, mister good-for-nothing_ , the speech bubble reads, low and gravelly as thunder claps over the impending doom of the scene. the lady has dialled the police, unbeknownst to any one of the three stood before her.

our citizen sees the bullet first. as if on wild instinct, he shoves the hero to the side, sending him flying onto the ground in a heap. the last thing we see before the ending dark panel is a speech bubble, a bullet to the side of our brave, courageous, fearless citizen, and blood, blood, blood. _stop, what’re you doing- no!_

 

— 

 

**_Hit Or A Miss: Chero The Hero?_ **

This morning saw the downright disaster of resident superhero  _Chero_ , which ended with a gunshot to the side of  _Brian Kang_ , the webcomic artist of  _from: miscellaneous_ a key witness at the scene of the crime.

At 09:04, with the rain pouring in a torrent, one of the heaviest rainfalls this summer as pointed out by _JNN Weather_ , Chero swooped in to prevent 34-year-old Morris Portland from mugging 67-year-old _Christine Kim_ , the wife of the CEO of _Talk-Talk Company_ , _Francis Kim_ , at a bus stop. Shortly after his arrival, Kang came out of _Dunkin’ Donuts_ directly behind the bus stop and stood in front of Chero, blocking him from Portland.

Portland was reported to reveal a gun, which he threatened Chero with. He shot the bullet, aimed at Chero, who dodged it and instead grazed Kang at the side of his abdomen. As the events took place, Kim contacted the police and medics who swiftly arrived at the scene. It was reported that Chero went after Portland, but when Portland was found hiding out in an alleyway some two blocks away from the buus stop, Chero was nowhere to be found. No leads have been found of the hero’s whereabouts.

Kang has been admitted to the  _Hospital Of Los Angeles_ , and has been said his condition is ‘substantially alright’ for the time being, though he has lost some memory of the scene of the crime. Kim has given her report to the police. What puzzles the police now is this: _Why_ did Chero dodge the bullet and let Kang take one for the team? Did Kang have a hunch on the armed mugger?  

There have been reported to have been no other key witnesses, as the heavy rain made the sights difficult to make out. Still, more questions now arise from this incident leaving a local citizen barely alive - is Chero really all that fit out to be a true superhero? Aren’t superheroes supposed to fight crime instead of increasing the numbers of casualties in the district?

“He was only trying to help the goddamn lady,” Kang reported with much aggression, shortly after his successful surgery. “Look, if he hadn’t arrived at the scene, who knows? Maybe the lady could’ve actually gotten killed.”

Superhero analyst  _Dr. Fransisca Loo_ has claimed, “Superheroes have been calculated to give an accuracy of 98.7% success rate. This is not Chero’s first downfall, only his first major one, and perhaps not his last. Are we sure to trust this so-called superhero just as we do with the wonderfully-acclaimed  _PSJ_ ?”

Criticism has arisen as of late, and more and more of the public has begun to realise that maybe, Chero isn’t all the hero the citizens thought he really was.

 

— 

 

brian spends the next few weeks hospitalised, all the while watching the news, praying for a sign, any sign, of where his hero has gone and disappeared off to. _where are you, jae?_

he’d seen that - that flash of fear in those eyes, the glimmer dissipating into darkness the second the bullet had lodged itself into the flesh of his waist, the way his mouth had formed a soundless _no!_ \- brian had seen all that, that image burned into the back of his mind before everything before him turned pitch black, his head hitting the ground. strangely, death hadn’t caught up to him just yet - and here he is, trudging back to his house, discharged out of the hospital, discharged of any feelings.

he twists the key in the doorknob, shoves the door open. when he enters the room, jae’s duffel bag from that night so many nights ago is still there, left unattended. why he hasn’t come back still baffles brian. his brain’s been a mixture of emotions and doubt for so long, so much that he bursts into tears the second he sees the chicken-patterned pajama pants littered onto the wooden floors.

_where are you, jae? come back. come back to me._

 

— 

 

that first kiss so many nights ago is almost a fantasy to brian now. he throws himself into a whirlwind of work, sketching furiously, diving deep into his paperwork. but every time he sketches jae’s figure on the pad, he grips his pen a little tighter till his knuckles turn white. he’s reminded of how clumsy that lanky boy was, how gentle those kisses were, how bright those eyes shined. and he breaks down just a little bit more. just a bit more.

 

— 

 

the pointer hovers over the post button again. it’s been going back and forth for a couple of days now, of brian restraining himself over and over again from clicking that button and announcing chero, _his_ hero, into the world.

today is like no other. brian leans back into his chair, hums along to the jazz music flowing quietly from the speaker on his bedside table. his mind races as he clicks the little x at the corner of the box, hesitates before he clicks on the notes box. he carefully places his fingers poised over the keyboard, the words all a muddle in his head. but he reminds himself of who he is, of what he’s here to do, and his fingers automatically begin flying across the keyboard. _click, click, click._

_Chero. Jae. If you’re reading this, this one’s for you._

 

_—_

 

**_The Misadventures Of A Superhero: Kang’s Revelation_ **

_“Supers are humans, and to err is human,” Kang states._

At exactly noon earlier today,  _Brian Kang_ , webcomic artist of the greatly acclaimed  _from: miscellaneous_ published the first episode of his newest series,  _The Misadventures Of A Superhero_ , on  _webcomics.com_ . This is his second ever webcomic, and his newest work in the span of one year since his last series which brought him to fame in the world of webcomics.

The webcomic follows the life of a university student by day, superhero by night, named Jae Park. The first episode begins with Jae in his superhero persona, JP, saving a teenage boy from a burning building. As per usual from Kang, the words and colours are vivid, but it’s not the episode itself which has garnered the attention of his fans - his afterword catches the eyes of superhero analysts all over the world.

Here is the  _afterword_ he posted in his notes: _Hi, everyone, Brian here. Sorry for being MIA these past few months, but the truth is I’ve been working on this brand new series. I worked alongside a superhero most have become familiar with - Chero, based in Los Angeles, to gather the details and information about what it really is like to be a super in our modern-day cities. It’s thanks to him that this story has become alive, and ever since his disappearance, I have been going back and forth on whether I wanted to ever publish this. I have made my decision, so here it is: The Misadventures Of A Superhero, or namely, Chero._

_Chero. Jae. If you’re reading this, this one’s for you. Come back. We miss you, I miss you x_

This afterword puzzles the public. Did Kang _really_ team up with  _Chero_ on his latest masterpiece? Does this explain  _the incident_ the both were involved in two weeks ago? Questions arise, but most believe it to be true after Kang posted _a selfie of him and Chero_ himself in his casual day clothes.

Superhero analysts have begun questioning Kang, but the webcomic artist has made the decision not to disclose any more details until the appearance of Chero again. “He’s an incredible superhero. He dedicates himself so much to his work. I- no, _we_ miss him,” he reported.

_The Misadventures Of A Superhero: Season One_ is to be published on a weekly basis every Sunday, the same schedule as when he posted seasons one to five of _from: miscellaneous._ Fans are not just excited for the new release, but also for the revelation of the newfound friendship between Kang and the superhero Chero.

 

— 

 

weeks pass by like a blur. before brian knows it, he’s sat at a table, the banner _The Misadventures Of A Superhero Fansign_ draped on the wall over the table. season one is an epic success, having skyrocketed in the charts and became the #1 webcomic for weeks on end, ending with a cliffhanger of the comic villain plotting his next move on jae, the protagonist of brian’s story and heart, ending with a sure kiss scene between character jae and character brian (of course, he’d named the teenage boy jae had saved in episode one ‘beckett’ to cover it up, but it doesn’t take too much effort for anyone to notice the face unmistakably familiar.)

“next!” brian shouts over the chatter of his fans lining up. a girl bounds up to the table, pigtails bouncing with every step as she gingerly places the hardcopy of his work onto the table. “what’s your name, love?”

the girl squeals a little, and brian blushes; he’s still not used to all this fame over his works. “errie. my name’s errie, and i love this series a lot, seriously. and i hope chero comes back, too!”

for a second, brian freezes, his shoulders seizing up at the name. but he tries to calm himself down as he hastily scribbles his signature across the front page, leaving a little message and a heart shape. “well, thank you for coming.” and even quieter, “i hope he does too.”

the sea of fans doesn’t seem to end. once the girl is off and away, brian cracks his knuckles a little. “next!”

a boy steps forward, glasses low on his nose as he shuffles up to the steps to the table. his hair is dark, a red cap over it. something catches the lights overhead and glitters in his ear. when brian squints, he sees it - a silver cross earring, a ruby centerpiece. no. _no_.

when the figure stops to a halt before the table, brian scrambles to his feet, shocked speechless as the figure lowers the black mask over his nose and mouth. “hey, bri baby.”

“ _jae_ .” the pen in his hand clatters to the floor as he marches around the table, not once hesitating to throw his arms over the lithe figure rooted to the spot. his arms embrace jae so tightly, the warmth of the boy’s body certain against his own. their hearts beat as one, so fast, so insistent, so full of love as jae draws him in, too, arms wrapped around his waist. “jae, what the actual fuck? where have you _been_?”

brian’s chest heaves with heavy sobs as he buries his head into the crook of jae’s neck. he still smells like that baby lavender scent from so many months ago, the first time brian had taken a whiff of the other, and it just wrecks brian even more. he feels lips fan hot breath against the shell of his ear, the broken words ringing through his head. “i’m sorry for disappearing. i miss you too, you hero.”

brian pulls back, just enough to see the same glimmer of jae’s watery eyes. “you doofus,” he murmurs, before sealing their lips together. it’s been so long, too long, and jae lets out a foreign squeak that sounds so adorable brian hugs him even tighter. their lips collide, just as their universes had that car accident far too long ago. a tongue licks into brian’s mouth and he sighs into the kiss, feels hot tears mix with his own as the two kiss long and torrid.

all around them, brian’s fans are confused, but cheer all the same. cameras click away, and brian knows he’ll have too many news websites to comb through after this, but whatever, because right now, jae, _his_ hero, is finally here, has finally come back, and that’s probably the most heroic thing ever to happen in both their lives.

  


**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/softtofustew_) // [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/softtofustew_) // [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/softtofustew)


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